Senseless
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: After a seemingly random attack leaves Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine taking shelter, the three find themselves suddenly without certain senses.
1. Chapter 1

**This probably won't be a very long story, but I wanted to try my hand at writing a multi-chapter story for Merlin.**

**So, thanks for reading, leave me a comment if you can, and I'll catch you in the next chapter.**

**Bye...**

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"Question," Merlin stated softly, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"No, _Mer_lin, you can't have the day off tomorrow," Arthur deadpanned barely acknowledging the young warlock's blunder, his eyes scanning the forest floor.

"I'm so glad you can read my mind, Arthur," Merlin retorted sardonically, adjusting the bag over his shoulder. "I'd hate to have to think for myself," he added for good measure receiving an eye roll from his master.

"_Can_ you think for yourself?" Arthur countered, the corners of his mouth turning up. "It's just, every time I see you attempt to think, I swear I see smoke coming out of your ears."

"Oh, Arthur, I see you've been staring into mirrors again. Careful now, we wouldn't want them to break."

"How long have you two been married again?" Gwaine asked suddenly, swinging down from a tree limb, hanging upside down, grinning at the glares thrown his way. "I think we should be heading back, gents. There's a warm seat at the tavern with my name on it, and a new barmaid just waiting for me to take her home."

"I sometimes wonder what you're addicted to more: mead or coitus," Arthur commented dryly and Gwaine merely gave him a cheeky grin before pulling himself back up, onto the tree branch.

He dropped down next to the two younger men and slyly questioned, "Why can't it be both?"

"I swear I can practically see the gluttony and lust rolling off you."

Gwaine merely grinned wider and then turned to Merlin, who was trying really hard to keep a smile off his face. "So, mate, what was your question?"

"Just wondering when we were heading back to Camelot," Merlin replied quietly, Arthur's bag digging into his shoulder. It was too heavy and he was certain his arms were going to fall off if he didn't put it down soon. "I swear, you add things after I've packed for you."

"No _Mer_lin, that's your lack of muscles," Arthur replied turning to smirk at Merlin.

"Oh yeah, and what do you call this?" Gwaine asked teasingly, patting Arthur's stomach. Both he and Merlin started laughing when the king swatted the knight's hand away.

"I am fighting fit," he argued sneering at the two laughing men. With a scoff, he shoved the crossbow at Merlin, knocking the wind out of him, and stalked ahead of his so called friends.

"Oh, Princess, don't run away," Gwaine called to the king. He glanced at Merlin, who was slowly getting his breath back, shot him a lazy smile, flipped his hair, and quickly chased after the blond. The warlock snorted, adjusted Arthur's bag again, and hurriedly trailed behind the others.

**Merlin**

"I think we're lost," Gwaine announced after thirty minutes of wandering through the forest.

"You always think we're lost," Arthur retorted, trying to subtly look around, ignoring the fact that Gwaine might possibly be right this time. "We're not lost," the king stated for good measure, turning to Merlin. "Where's that map I asked you to pack?"

"Map? What map?" Merlin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he said, "There wasn't a map, Arthur."

"Yes there was, _Mer_lin," Arthur replied slowly, as if speaking to a child. "I left it on the table with a note specifically stating 'Dunderhead, Pack This.'"

"I swear to you, Arthur, there was no map on the table," Merlin argued, in an equally patronizing voice, choosing to ignore Arthur's jibe.

"There-" Arthur trailed off, mentally retracing his footsteps that morning. Merlin had been late, as usual, his breakfast had been cold because his good for nothing manservant was late, his boots had gone missing only to be found under Merlin's bed, obviously he had been skiving on his duties again, and he had grabbed the map and put it on the…

"Obviously you didn't look hard enough," Arthur stated and sped ahead of Gwaine and Merlin. They didn't need to know he had forgotten to put the map on the table. He had every intention of doing it. It was all _Merlin's_ fault for being late.

"So, we're lost, huh?" Gwaine looked between the two younger men, nodding slowly. "I wonder if there's a tavern nearby."

"Take this however you'd like, but if there was I don't doubt that you could find it," Arthur commented dryly.

"I will take it as a compliment if you don't mind," Gwaine retorted with a smirk.

"Good wouldn't want it to be taken the…" a stick snapped in the distance, cutting Arthur off, and he drew his horse to a stop, holding his hand up to halt the others.

"Could be an animal," Gwaine stated coming to a stop next to the king.

"Yeah, maybe," Arthur responded quietly, but both men slowly dismounted their horses, both waving at Merlin to _stay_ on his, and scanned the area, keeping their hands on the hilts of their swords. It was a few moments before they relaxed, finding no immediate threat.

"Like I said," Gwaine started moving back towards his horse, "just an-"

Several things happened at once and it was a miracle all three men managed to survive. An arrow implanted itself in the ground, inches from Merlin's horse, spooking it enough to jump up on its hind legs. The manservant tried to keep hold of the reins, but his hand slipped and he hit the ground, hard. As Gwaine ran to help him, another arrow slammed into a tree, inches from his head.

"Where are they coming from?" Arthur called ducking a third arrow.

"No clue," Gwaine answered helping a stunned Merlin to his feet, taking most of his weight when his ankle nearly collapsed on him. "But we need to move now."

Arthur nodded in agreement and the threesome darted into the forest, dodging more arrows, Gwaine slowing down because of Merlin. Arthur thought he heard the younger man mutter something about them leaving him behind, but that comment only warranted a snort and Arthur ducking under Merlin's other arm and taking the other half of his weight. There was no way he was leaving Merlin behind, not again, and Arthur knew, for a fact, that Gwaine would agree with him.

"We probably should have taken a horse," Gwaine suggested as he narrowly avoided another arrow.

"Oh yes, I'm sure they would have given us enough time to jump on a horse," Arthur snapped readjusting his grip on Merlin.

"It would have been faster, and I am sure Merlin would have appreciated it," the knight argued taking a quick right, nearly spilling all three of them onto the ground. He managed to keep his balance, ignored the look Arthur threw him, and ducked into a cave he had spotted a while back.

"They're going to catch up," Arthur commented as he and Gwaine set Merlin down, letting his back settle against the stone wall.

"That's the plan," Gwaine replied and Arthur nodded, understanding completely. Whoever was shooting at them would either have to show themselves or give up. The king was banking on the former. He hadn't had a reason to kill any Saxons in a while. That is if the Saxons were the ones shooting at them.

"How many do you reckon there are?" Arthur asked slowly, removing his sword from its sheath.

"They usually travel in a pack of ten," Gwaine replied weighing his own sword in his hand. "Though it seemed there were only a few shooters."

"So, we're banking on, at most, ten men, and at least three."

"Quite possibly."

"Uh, guys," Merlin called and, as one, Gwaine and Arthur turned to look his way, their eyes widening at the cloud of purple smoke coming at them. As it engulfed the three men, sending them into a sea of darkness, Arthur couldn't help thinking: _I should have seen this coming._

**Merlin**

Gwaine woke with a start, coughing as he sucked in a lung full of dirt. Slowly, he sat up, running a hand through his hair, his eyebrows furrowing when he found himself in a cave. His memory was a little fuzzy, reminding him of the times he woke up from getting blackout drunk (though those moments were more frequent when he was in his late teens), but he was missing the massive, head splitting, puke his guts out headache that generally accompanied a hangover. In fact, with the exception of his memory, he was actually fine.

He scanned the cave, wondering how he had gotten there, his eyes settling on a familiar figure slumped against the wall while an equally familiar figure lay at the former's feet. Eyebrows shooting up, Gwaine crawled across the cave, resting his hands on Merlin's face, opening his mouth to say his name, but immediately closing it when nothing came out.

He tried again, but he still couldn't form words. Well, he could form the words they just wouldn't come out of his mouth. It was as if his voice had just stopped working. He tried clearing his throat, attempting to speak a third time, but gave up with a frustrated sigh.

"What the hell was that thing!?" he heard His Royal Pratness (Merlin was a worse influence than Arthur gave him credit for) exclaim and Gwaine couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. Why did _Arthur _get to keep his petulant voice while Gwaine lost his dulcet tones? "Hang on. I can't…" Arthur trailed off, and Gwaine glanced over his shoulder in time to see the blond wiggling his index finger in his left ear. "I can't…" he turned to Gwaine and practically shouted, "Can you hear me!?"

Gwaine nodded, eyebrows narrowing again, just as Merlin groaned, "What?" The long haired knight turned his attention back to Merlin, who had a panicked look on his face. "Hello?" the younger man called, letting his eyes scan the cave, but it appeared they weren't settling on anything specific. "Arthur, Gwaine?"

Worry settled in Gwaine's stomach, and he let his hand rest against Merlin's face again. The dark haired man jumped, his head turning in the knight's direction, but his eyes were looking over Gwaine's shoulder. "I can't… I can't see."

_Oh, this can't be good,_ Gwaine thought sitting back on his heels, running a hand through his hair. This wasn't good at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts, and favs last chapter. They were really appreciated.**

**Thanks for reading, l****eave me a comment if you can, ****the recognizable characters are not mine, and I hope to see you in the next chapter.**

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What Merlin could remember, it hadn't been a very big cave. It was a tight fit for him, Gwaine, and Arthur, wouldn't have fit any of them had Percival come with like he had planned, and it had looked as if nobody human had inhabited it in years. It also happened to have some sort of magical trap set for any unsuspecting travelers. Probably set by whoever _used_ to live here, but no doubt age or animals took away their home and this spell was an aftermath. It probably wasn't hard to reverse if Merlin could just _see _his surroundings.

If he would have sensed the magic beforehand, none of this would have happened, but he had still been a bit dazed when Gwaine and Arthur carried him into the cave. It was bound to happen, he _had_ fallen off a horse, and his ankle still twinged a bit, so he couldn't entirely be held at fault for not being aware of the magical trap. It still didn't stop him from feeling a bit guilty.

From Arthur's yelling, Merlin wasn't the only one affected by the spell, and he had a feeling Gwaine hadn't gotten off curse free either.

He felt a rough, callused hand settle on his face again, startling him once more, and he whispered, "Gwaine?" The hand left his face as his own hand was grabbed and pulled forward, resting against a familiar head of hair, the head nodding once. "You can't talk can you?" Merlin asked carefully and the head shook slowly back and forth.

"What's wrong with him?!" Merlin heard Arthur shout and winced at his voice. Gwaine must have shot him a glare because Arthur loudly asked, "What?" It was quiet for a moment, save for the sound of their breathing, but finally Arthur stated, in a much quieter voice, "I can't help that I can't hear. What's wrong with Merlin?" It was quiet a second time, Merlin figuring Gwaine was writing messages in the dirt floor of the cave for Arthur's benefit, and again the young king's voice broke the silence. "No sight? You mean he can't see." Gwaine must have thrown him an incredulous look because the king said, "Don't look at me like that. I'm just clarifying."

Merlin jumped when he felt air brush past his face. "Is he…? Is Arthur waving a hand in front of my face?" Merlin asked slowly and he felt Gwaine's head nod underneath his hand. "Tell him to stop."

"He really can't see can he?" Arthur's hand stilled in its waving, and Merlin heard the king crouch down next to him. "It must have been sorcery. Maybe the cave has a curse on it or something. Do you think there's a way to reverse this?"

"I don't know," Merlin responded shrugging. "We need to get back to Camelot, see if Gaius can help us." It was easier said than done. They still had to worry about any stray Saxons running around and none of them were actually in fighting form. With the exception of Gwaine, but he could hardly call out a warning if someone were to sneak up on Merlin or Arthur.

"What'd he say?" Arthur asked curiously, no doubt glancing at Gwaine. He must have written in the dirt again because Arthur scoffed and said, "How _Mer_lin? I can't hear a damn thing, and you're more useless than usual without the ability to see. The only upside is we don't have to hear Gwaine tell the same five stories over and over again." Merlin heard a thud and Arthur shout, "_Ow! _I am a king. You can't go around hitting me. I'll throw you in the stocks for that."

"Guys," Merlin called, swinging his arm around until it connected with a leg, hoping it was Arthur's. "We need to get out of here. I don't know where those Saxons are and…"

"Plan? What plan?" Arthur said suddenly, cutting the young warlock off, and Merlin suspected Gwaine was writing in the dirt again. "Since when have you _ever_ had a plan?" Merlin couldn't help thinking this was going to be a long day.

**Merlin**

"That's a terrible plan," Arthur commented a few moments later, looking down at the words Gwaine had etched into the ground. Gwaine shot him a sharp look, waving his hand, obviously telling Arthur to talk quieter. Well excuse him, it wasn't his fault he could hear anything.

Gwaine wrote: _It's the only one we've got._

"We could stay here," Arthur suggested glancing around the cave. "Wait until we're one-hundred percent sure they're gone." Merlin said something, his mouth moving, and Arthur tried really hard to read his lips, but he hadn't exactly needed the skill growing up, so he missed everything completely.

"What's he…" Gwaine beat Arthur to the punch, writing: _He wants to know the plan._

"Right. I nearly forgot." Actually, Arthur hadn't forgotten anything. His loss of hearing he could handle, and knowing Gwaine couldn't talk was actually pretty funny to him, but he was worried about Merlin's sudden blindness. Merlin may be useless in some aspects (anything to do with fighting, being able to move a tray from one side of the room to another, walking in a straight line), but he was usually pretty good at spotting things other did not, Arthur including. He relied on his eyes, needed them almost as much as Arthur needed his ears.

In a way, Arthur was actually surprised Merlin was taking his sudden sightlessness this well. Had it been him, suddenly being unable to see, externally he'd keep a cool head, sure, but internally he'd be slightly panicked, wondering if the spell had a reverse or if he'd forever be left without the ability of sight. It was bad enough that's how he felt about his hearing.

Of course, who was to say Merlin wasn't feeling the same thing. Though the younger man had never been very good at hiding his emotions, and it surprised Arthur to see traces of guilt on his face above anything else. What did _Merlin_ have to be guilty for? If anything, Arthur should be the guilty one. He had allowed his men, his friends, to get cursed. He should have known, should have acted accordingly, and now they could very well be in trouble; could very well be stuck like this forever.

The young king felt a hand on his shoulder, startling him, and he glanced down to see Gwaine giving him a worried look while Merlin's lips were saying, what Arthur could only assume, his name. "I'm alright," Arthur assured his knight and friend. "Just thinking." Merlin said something and Gwaine laughed, shaking his head. "Did you _just_ insult my intelligence, _Mer_lin?"

Merlin gave Arthur, or the wall over his shoulder, a sheepish grin and the king shook his head slowly back and forth. He muttered, "Idiot." He noticed the look cross Merlin's face, and Arthur recognized it immediately. "Don't call me a prat." The manservant flashed the king another look, this one clearly saying 'I didn't _say_ anything.' "You were thinking it. I know you were

Gwaine waved his hands, getting Arthur's attention, and gestured towards the cave's entrance. He then pointed at his eyes, obviously telling Arthur he was going to check for any Saxons. Arthur still thought the plan was a bad idea, reminding him they should probably fill Merlin in before leaving, but nodded anyway. Gwaine nodded back and headed outside.

Waiting a beat, Arthur crossed the cave and took a seat next to Merlin. He nudged his friend with his foot and said, "We are going to take your advice and head back to Camelot. I won't tell you it's a good idea because this could very well go to hell, but if we make it back I'll… I'll give you an entire hour off."

Merlin's head turned towards Arthur's voice and his look clearly said '_Wow, Arthur, a whole hour. I will forever cherish your bout of generosity'_ It was a testament to how much time they spent together that Arthur clearly heard Merlin sardonically say each word, the sarcasm dripping from his lips, and he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

Gwaine returned before Arthur could retort, gesturing for the king to get up. The younger man complied, a part of him in awe over the fact that he was actually taking orders from _Gwaine_ of all people, and moved over to stand next to the knight in question. "Anything?" he asked the long haired knight and he shook his head. "Think we can make it?" Gwaine merely shrugged. "That's comforting," Arthur muttered under his breath.

"Okay," he continued turning to Merlin, "you're going to be my ears." The youngest man flashed a questioning look in Arthur's general direction just as Gwaine crossed the cave floor. He helped Merlin up, keeping a hold of him when his ankle threatened to give out, and helped him limp over to Arthur's side.

"Get on my back," Arthur stated crouching down. He noticed the uncertain look cross his friend's face and he sighed and repeated, "Get on my back. Come on, _Mer_lin, we don't have all day."

With some help from Gwaine, after a long, inner battle that Arthur could clearly see on his friend's face, Merlin managed to get settled on the king's back, loosely wrapping his arms around his neck. "Okay, you be my ears," Arthur repeated slowly, gripping behind Merlin's knees to keep him from slipping, "and I'll be your eyes." Merlin flashed a thumbs up in front of Arthur's face, telling him he understood, and the threesome slowly walked out of the cave.

**Merlin**

Gwaine left the cave first, barely glancing back at Arthur and Merlin. He had a feeling, if he looked longer than a few seconds, he might start laughing and be unable to stop. He never thought he'd see the day that Arthur, King of Camelot, carried his manservant. In actuality, he figured it'd be the other way around, and had that ever occurred, Gwaine would have a few well-chosen words to share with the king of pratness. Merlin was his friend, and his job was servant _not _the king's personal mule.

As quietly as possible, hard to do when Arthur couldn't hear how loud he was being, they headed back towards their horses. Gwaine seriously doubted they were _just_ waiting for them. Either they had been killed, something he hoped didn't happen (he was rather fond of his horse), or they had already headed back towards Camelot.

"You know," Merlin started in a quiet voice, "I just remembered. Weren't we lost?"

"What?" Arthur hissed, glancing back at Merlin, no doubt feeling the young servant's chest reverberate against his back as he spoke.

Gwaine shrugged, figuring they could easily run into somebody friendly. Between Arthur and Merlin, they could easily explain what happened and maybe this person, who was not going to shoot arrows at them or attack them with a sword, could point them in the right direction.

"Seriously, what did he _just_ say?" Arthur questioned in a semi-loud whisper. "You know I…" A stick snapped, freezing Gwaine in his tracks, and he waved his hand to cut Arthur off, mid-sentence. He glanced around, recalling a few hours, remembering how a snapping stick was the exact reason they were in this mess.

He grabbed Arthur's arm, being careful not to knock Merlin off the king's back, and hurriedly ushered him towards a clump of bushes. They crouched down, Gwaine making sure he was behind Arthur, and the group watched as a Saxon slowly moved across the clearing, sword held loosely in his hand, his eyes darting around, looking for them.

He rested his hand on Merlin's back, feeling him still beneath his palm, while he and Arthur exchanged a quick look, both silently arguing over who was going to attack the Saxon. He was only one man, most likely left behind to make sure they really had gotten away, either man could easily kill him. But they had to worry about Merlin, who couldn't see and needed them more than they needed him right now, so one of them had to stay…

Something sharp and cool rested against the back of Gwaine's neck, sending him hurtling out of his head and back to reality. He heard a deep chuckle and a gruff voice say, "Looks like we have a couple lost puppies." Could this day really get any worse?


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the reviews and alerts last chapter.**

**This story is slowly starting to get away from me. I don't know how that happened.**

**Thanks for reading and leave me a comment if you can.**

**I don't own anyone recognizable.**

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Merlin wasn't exactly sure what happened. He was very much aware of a deep voice taunting them, the sound of metal hitting metal, and soon he was moving, twisted ankle painfully slamming against Arthur's leg. He held a hiss of pain at bay, wanting to ask what was going on, but knew it was completely pointless. Arthur couldn't hear him.

Finally, he was deposited into a bush, a very thorny bush, and promptly abandoned with Arthur shouting 'stay here' at him. He wondered what the druids would say if they saw the great and powerful Emrys blind and in a rose bush, abandoned by his friends. He supposed he deserved it. Though, he'd much rather be abandoned somewhere less sharp and painful.

With some difficulty, ignoring Arthur's parting words, he managed to get on his hands and knees and crawl out of the bush, feeling thorns scrap his face, palms, legs, knees, and arms. In addition to several new, bleeding wounds, Merlin wondered just how many thorns he'd be picking out of his body by the end of the day. That is, if he'd be able to see said thorns in order to pull them out of his flesh.

He was very much aware of grunting and clanging, the telltale sounds of fighting, as he staggered to his feet. He tried to conjure up some kind of magic to help his friends, but it'd be completely hopeless, especially since he ran the risk of hitting the wrong person.

He heard the approaching figure seconds before hands grabbed him from behind. He threw his hand back, palm slamming into a broad chest, feeling his magic bubble to the surface, and felt the hands immediately leave him. He heard a surprised shout, followed by a cry of pain when whoever grabbed him landed in the rosebush he had just vacated.

"Come on," he soon heard Arthur say, and he was grabbed again. This time he didn't fight, allowing whoever had him (by the sound of their breathing it was Gwaine) to drag him through the forest. He tripped twice, his ankle sending spikes of pain up his leg, and Gwaine was the only reason he was still moving.

For a brief moment, he wondered if Arthur or Gwaine had seen his magic, but his worries were answered when he heard Arthur say, "I didn't know you could hit someone _that_ hard, Merlin. Did you see that Saxon land in that bush?" Even though it was supposed to be a compliment, Arthur still made it sound like an insult. Merlin really had to ask him how he did it. The young warlock felt a hand wrap around his bicep, Arthur taking the other half of his weight. "Maybe you are stronger than you look."

"I'd say thank you, Sire, but I know you can't hear me," Merlin commented sarcastically, feeling Gwaine quietly chuckle next to him, and the threesome kept moving.

**Merlin**

They stopped to rest in a small clearing, thirty minutes later. Gwaine and Arthur settled Merlin against a tree, and the latter immediately began checking his servant over for injuries while the former checked the perimeter. Besides a few new cuts and a couple thorns stuck in Merlin's left palm, he was relatively injury free.

"You were lucky," Arthur commented taking his servant's hand in his own. "This could have been a lot worse." It wasn't lost on Arthur that it had been _him_ who caused the new wounds. That's what happened when he didn't pay attention, but he was in a hurry. Surely Merlin could forgive him for that.

The look on his servant's face proved Merlin didn't blame him. Another good thing about Merlin, despite all his constant bitching and moaning, he was incredibly understanding and forgiving, and sometimes to people who didn't even deserve it. He really was a unique individual.

"There," Arthur said a few moments later, removing the last thorn from Merlin's hand. "Probably going to want to have Gaius doubt check when we get home, but I'm sure I've got them all. I just need…" Merlin removed his red scarf, handing it over to Arthur. "This'll do."

As he wrapped his servant's hand, Gwaine settled down next to him, causing Arthur to start. He wasn't going to ever get used to not being able to hear. He turned to the long haired night and said, "Well?"

Gwaine held up five fingers, telling Arthur they only had a handful of minutes to rest if they wanted to make leeway before the sun went down. The king nodded, settling Merlin's hand in his lap, and stood up. He moved towards a log, sat down, and buried his face in his hands, thinking.

He was fairly certain Camelot was towards the east, meaning they were definitely heading in the right direction. If they kept on their current path, they could easily find some familiar landmarks before nightfall. That was Arthur's goal, to find somewhere familiar to set up camp. He really wanted his map. Why couldn't Merlin be on time this morning?

With a sigh, he stood up and looked towards Gwaine and Merlin. "I think we should find somewhere familiar before settling down for the night." Both nodded in agreement, Gwaine helping Merlin to his feet. Arthur noticed his servant's leg shaking slightly, and gestured to Gwaine to carry the younger man.

Once he was settled on the knight's back, Merlin said something that made Gwaine shake his head and roll his eyes. If the knight's reaction was any indication, Arthur would guess that Merlin said something about them not needing to keep carrying him.

"_Mer_lin, you'd just slow us down if we allowed you to walk," Arthur stated slowly, walking a little ahead of Gwaine, leading him back towards the path. "Just accept the help because it is never happening again." Arthur could practically feel Merlin roll his eyes and he merely said, "Don't roll your eyes at me. When we get home, after Gaius fixes us, and when your ankle is on the mend, I'm making you muck out my stables twice a day. And I expect my armor polished, my dogs walked, my chamber floor scrubbed…"

**Merlin**

Twenty minutes, and a list the size of Albion, later, they were no closer to finding their way out of the forest. Nor had they run into anything familiar. In fact, if Gwaine were a betting man (or more of a betting man), he'd say they were even more lost.

"This is getting us nowhere," Arthur exclaimed loudly, stopping, throwing his hands in the air. "You'd think we would run into something by now; a path, maybe a village, anything."

Gwaine barely paid much attention to the king. Instead, he helped Merlin off his back, setting him down on a log. For such a scrawny guy, he was heavy, and the knight rubbed his sore lower back. "You don't have to keep carrying me. I'll be fine," Merlin insisted, hearing the knight's armor creak as he moved, but Gwaine ignored him. "I don't like feeling useless," the younger man continued, interpreting the knight's lack of a non-verbal response correctly.

The knight gave the young servant a sympathetic look, briefly squeezing Merlin's shoulder, telling him not to worry, that he was far from useless. He then stepped away from him, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any danger. At this moment, he was the only thing standing between his friends and anymore potential attackers.

He was just about to return to Merlin's side when he heard a shout of surprise. He looked around, noticing Merlin's eyebrows furrowed and a worried expression crossing his face. "That was Arthur," the younger man said, struggling to get to his feet.

Gwaine helped him up, letting Merlin lean on him as they followed Arthur's voice. They skidded to a halt when Gwaine noticed Arthur's sword lying on the ground, the king was nowhere to be found.


	4. Chapter 4

**I am predicting, maybe, two more chapters. We'll see what happens.**

**So, thanks for the reviews and alerts last chapter, I still don't own these characters, I hope you enjoy this, and leave me a comment if you can.**

**See ya**

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Merlin very nearly yelled Arthur's name, but he had to remind himself that the blond prat wouldn't be able to hear him even if he tried, so he refrained. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. They had lost the king, he and Gwaine had lost the king; they were definitely going to get executed for this. And here, Merlin had been afraid his magic would be the thing that got him killed.

"Do you see him?" he asked curiously, glancing in, what he hoped, was Gwaine's direction. His hand was grabbed, from the exact opposite direction, and rested on a shaggy haired head. The head shook back and forth twice before Merlin's hand was released again.

"We need to…"

"What have I fallen into," a familiar voice called from below them. "Hello? You two had better be up there. I think I'm stuck."

"Gwaine go…" the knight only hesitated for a second before settling Merlin down, onto-what felt like-a stump. He then jogged away, leaving the warlock behind. Merlin was listening hard, trying to pinpoint where exactly his friends were, that he missed the footsteps until he was grabbed from behind.

Before he could fight back, he was dragged off the stump and away from his friends. He tried to call out, but his mouth was covered by a sweaty, clammy, callused hand.

"I saw what you did," a gruff, familiar voice whispered in his ear, the breath hot against his cheek, leaving the smell of sour ale in his nose, almost making him gag.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin stated against the hand, wincing when his sprained ankle caught on a root.

"You _know,"_ the voice snarled, roughly shaking him. "Don't lie to me."

"Fine," Merlin replied and conjured up his magic, repeating the same move he used earlier that day. His hand slammed into an even broader chest, his palm stinging, but he felt the man let him go as he flew through the air, his body audibly hitting a tree.

Merlin immediately started moving, heading back in, what he hoped, was the direction of Gwaine and Arthur. He sped up a little when he thought he heard a stick snap, his ankle sending pain up his leg, tripping over a protruding tree root, slamming head first into the ground.

**Merlin**

Arthur smelled like a chamber pot and didn't look much better either as he and Gwaine headed back towards Merlin. He wasn't really sure how he fell into the stagnant water, most likely something magic related because there was no way he _tripped_, but the next thing he knew he was waking up soaking wet and smelling like poo.

"This is disgusting," Arthur stated glancing back at Gwaine. "Remind me to have Merlin draw me a bath when we…" the king trailed off, remembering his manservant couldn't quite do his duties at this moment in time. "Well, remind me to have somebody draw me a bath when we get back." He noticed the worry look cross Gwaine's face, halting mid-step. "What?"

Gwaine ignored his question, moving around him as he frantically started searching the immediate area. Arthur sighed heavily and said, "What are you…?" he trailed off again, knowing exactly what Gwaine was looking for; or should he say 'who?'

"Where's Merlin?" Gwaine gestured to a stump, clearly saying 'I left him right here.' Of course, Merlin probably wandered off, hoping he could help them. The damn servant was going to be the death of Arthur.

"Merlin!" he called, hoping Gwaine could hear the dark haired man if he called back. "Merlin, this isn't funny! You can't see, you're no help to us, and if you die Guinevere will have my head!" Not to mention he'd be losing his best friend.

Gwaine started waving his hands, getting Arthur's attention, and nodded towards a makeshift path directly behind the stump. Arthur started forward, noticing the telltale signs of a struggle, his stomach clenching in worry. He wasn't sure whether to yell at Gwaine for his stupidity (how dare he leave _Merlin_ by himself, unable to see, with Saxons hunting them) or to just start throwing punches. Both would get his point across, but the latter would make him feel better.

He felt a hand slap his arm, startling him, and Arthur threw a glare Gwaine's way only to see him gesturing at something to his left. Arthur turned, noticing a familiar arm poking out from behind a moss covered tree.

**Merlin**

"Merlin," Arthur called as he raced forward, Gwaine right on his heels. They maneuvered around the tree, stopping just above Merlin. He appeared to have tripped over a tree root and knocked himself out. He must have fought like hell to get away from whoever grabbed him. Now they just had to figure out what happened to his would be captor.

Arthur turned to Gwaine and said, "Can you get him? We'll make camp at that stump." The knight nodded, moving forward to gather Merlin into his arms, noting the purplish bruise just above his right eye. They'd have to keep an eye on him when he woke up, make sure he didn't have a concussion.

Once back at their makeshift camp, Gwaine set Merlin down, against a tree, and immediately began collecting fire wood as close to the younger man as possible. There was no way he was letting him out of his sight again. From the looks of Arthur, they were on the same page.

"This is just not Merlin's day," Arthur commented conversationally-after the fire wood had been arranged-attempting to start a fire. Arthur could say that again. "I can't even blame it on him being clumsy either no matter how much I want to."

"I'm not that clumsy," a soft, slightly slurred voice said, catching Gwaine's attention. The shaggy haired knight glanced down at Merlin, who had his blue eyes half mast, staring at Arthur's back. Gwaine lightly tapped Arthur on the shoulder, nodding towards the dark haired manservant.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed giving up on the fire, scooting over to Merlin's side. "You're awake!"

"Well spotted, Arthur," Merlin stated drily, but gave the king's shoulder a small smile. "What happened?"

"What?" Arthur turned to Gwaine who wrote 'Happened?' in the dirt. "We were hoping you could tell us. Did somebody grab you? We saw drag marks."

"Saxons," the dark haired man whispered, running a hand through his hair, hissing when his fingertips brushed against his bruised head. "I got away."

'Saxons' Gwaine wrote in the dirt and Arthur nodded. "That's what we thought. How'd you get away; more of that surprising strength you apparently have?"

Merlin gave Arthur a sheepish, albeit a little guilty grin, and said, "Something like that."

"We're going to rest here for the night, head back in the morning," Arthur said and Merlin immediately tensed, shaking his head slowly. "What?"

"We should get closer to Camelot," Merlin responded quickly, Gwaine writing 'Closer to Home' in the dirt when Arthur threw him a questioning look. "With those Saxons still out there, we can't stay here. We need to make it harder to find us."

'Harder to find us' Gwaine wrote and Arthur shook his head. "No, _Mer_lin, we're not moving tonight; not with your head and your ankle. We need to make sure you're not about to collapse…" Arthur sighed in frustration. "Stop shaking your head, dollop-head."

"Prat," Merlin muttered.

"Idiot," Arthur grumbled, not needing a translator to read that one word on Merlin's lips. With another frustrated sigh, he relented, "Fine, we'll walk another hour, but if you collapse I'm putting you in the stocks."

"Yes, Sire. Wouldn't dream of it," the younger man stated sardonically.

"Nobody needs your cheek, Merlin," Arthur commented absentmindedly, his eyes widening. "Gods, I heard you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and favs last chapter. This story, sadly, is slowly drawing to a close, but I love that all of you are sticking to this until the end.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, I still don't own the boys (though, I'd sell my soul for Gwaine), and drop me a comment if you can.**

**See ya**

* * *

"It must wear off," Merlin commented absentmindedly, from Gwaine's back, as the three men slowly trekked through the woods. "Though, it must happen gradually because neither Gwaine nor I are cured, yet. Are you sure you can hear me, Arthur?"

"Yes, _Mer_lin_,_ I hear your incessant chatter loud and clear," Arthur replied with very little patience. It may or may not have been the third time Merlin asked him the same question. "Truthfully, I'm starting to miss the quiet." There was an underlying teasing tone in his voice, so the young warlock didn't take the words too seriously.

"Maybe it was some sort of defense mechanism; just strong enough to scare off any bandits or unwanted visitors. They wake up without the ability to hear or see, get scared, and run off. Maybe the longer they stayed in the cave, the worse they were affected. See leaving _was_ a good idea, Arthur."

"Even you, _Mer_lin, have rare moments of intelligence," Arthur murmured and Merlin snorted. "You can't be a dunderhead all the time."

"I'd watch out for that branch if I were you," Gwaine suddenly said, taking Merlin and Arthur by surprise.

"What branch…?" there was a soft thud, a quiet 'ow,' and Merlin felt Gwaine's body shaking with laughter. "Shut up, _Gwaine_," Arthur snapped rubbing his head. "And since when can _you_ talk?"

"I'm not sure, probably always could, just never thought to check," the knight responded with a shrug. Merlin could practically see Arthur roll his eyes. Actually, he was fairly certain he spotted a blurry shaped Arthur standing directly in front of him and Gwaine.

"And _you, Merlin_? Can you suddenly see?"

"Sorta," Merlin replied softly, taking in more blurred shapes. "It's a bit blurry, but I can make out enough to be able to walk on my own."

"No, Merlin, until you can see clearly, you're not walking. It's bad enough you're clumsy with perfect vision," Arthur muttered and the three men continued on.

"Hey Arthur," Merlin called a few moments later.

"What."

"Can you hear me now?"

Arthur sighed in frustration, "Yes, _Mer_lin."

"How's about now?" Gwaine asked with a grin.

"Yes," the king replied through clenched teeth.

"And now?" Both Gwaine and Merlin said together.

"Shut up," Arthur growled and stormed away, ignoring the giggles coming from the knight and warlock.

**Merlin**

Arthur never thought he'd appreciate the sounds of nature. He usually found the sound of birds to be annoying, the breeze rustling leaves to be distracting, the constant chatter of squirrels to be more irritating than Merlin when he was excited about something, but right now it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. He could even tolerate Merlin's complaining about wanting to walk and Gwaine telling another tavern story (though, with Gwaine, he really wished the knight would just shut up already) just as long as he could _hear_ them. He was never taking advantage of his ability to hear again.

"I'm just saying I can see fine," Merlin continued to complain, "and I'm pretty sure my ankle isn't broken. I _can_ walk."

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur muttered absentmindedly.

"But Arthur…"

"Seriously, shut up." The king dragged Gwaine and Merlin into a bushel of trees, hushed voices coming towards them. He pushed Gwaine and Merlin behind one tree, rested his back against another, and listened carefully as the voices got closer and clearer.

"...why he wants him," a squeaky voice stated slowly. "He's not going to get much for him. Since Uther died, Junior hasn't accepted any bounties. Or, not that I've heard."

"Try tellin' him that," another voice responded. "Maybe we can take the boy to Odin or Bayard."

"They never pay as much as Pendragon used to. The crazy old bat would give you a good price for your boots if you told him they had a smidgeon of magic."

Arthur had heard enough. He threw himself from behind his tree, yanked his sword out, and immediately swung at the closest bandit. He took the man by surprise, taking him down with two blows, but it gave the other enough time to pull his own sword.

He engaged his new opponent in battle, trying to forget what had been said about his father. Yes, Uther Pendragon was an obsessive bastard, but that didn't give these men the right to talk about him that way. He was still Arthur's father, he had still been king. They needed to learn to respect that.

He managed to take his second opponent down with three blows, escaping with very little injury. Re-sheathing his sword, keeping an eye out for anymore men, he slowly started back towards Gwaine and Merlin. He was barely six steps towards them when he felt a sharp pain suddenly erupt from his shoulder, sending him face first into the ground.

**Merlin**

Gwaine watched as Arthur went down. Merlin scrambled off the knight's back, staggering for a moment before trying to get to the king, but Gwaine grabbed him around the middle, easily keeping him in place. "Stay here," he hissed to Merlin, letting the younger man go, and rushed forward, ducking an arrow, wrapping his arm around Arthur's chest.

Slowly, he pulled the king back towards their cover, narrowly avoiding another arrow, leaning Arthur against a tree.

"Merlin," Arthur started breathing heavily.

"Yes sire," Merlin responded bending Arthur forward so he could look at his wound.

"This is your fault," the king commented wincing when Merlin broke the head off the arrow.

"Whatever you say, Arthur," the manservant muttered, a smirk on his face, still concentrating on the wound. "I don't have anything to bind this with."

"Here," Gwaine said offering up his vest. He peeked around the tree, trying to see who was shooting at them. He heard Arthur hiss as Merlin took the arrow out of the king's shoulder, heard a tear come from his proffered garment, and then Merlin was by his side.

"Maybe we should split up," he suggested weighing Arthur's sword in his hands.

"You're going to fight, Merlin? You'd be lucky to hit the backend of a stationary target with a sword," Arthur remarked holding his shoulder.

"I'd like to see you try, Arthur," Merlin retorted glaring down at the king. "With your shoulder you wouldn't last five minutes."

"I've fought with worse."

Gwaine left the two to bicker, silently moving from one tree to another, keeping his eyes peeled. He spotted a figure in the trees, resting against a branch, waiting for one of the three Camelot citizens to poke their heads out. With a sigh, Gwaine continued his stealthy movements around the trees, circling around until he was on the other side of the clearing.

He started forward, climbing the tree as quietly as possible. He stopped one branch down from the bandit, flashed him an easygoing smile, and asked, "Is there room for two?" The bandit jumped, fiddling with his crossbow, but Gwaine had already grabbed him around the ankle and yanked him off the branch, straight down to the ground. Both his leg and the crossbow broke on impact.

Gwaine was about to climb down, but he spotted the gruff and dirty man from a few hours ago stalking towards Merlin and Arthur. The latter dragged himself to his feet, stepping in front of the younger man, barely able to hold his sword up, but ready to protect Merlin with everything he had. The bandit leader merely shoved the king out of the way. He then grabbed Merlin by the scruff of the neck and immediately started dragging him away.


	6. Chapter 6

**This is it, folks. I want to thank everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited, and kept up with this story until the end. You guys are truly awesome!**

**So, seriously, thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you can, and I hope to catch you in the next story**

**Bye!**

**P.S. They, alas, still aren't mine**

* * *

Merlin fought to break the hold on him, but his burley captor slammed a beefy fist into his stomach, effectively knocking the air out of him and ceasing his struggles. Behind him, he could hear Arthur struggling to get to his feet and dared not use his magic. He also caught a glimpse of Gwaine moving through the forest, no doubt returning to wherever he wandered off to, looking worried.

"I was going to trade you in for a hefty bounty," the bandit leader growled, roughing shaking Merlin, sending a sharp pain through his head and down his back, "but I'm beginning to think you're more trouble than you're worth."

"Arthur… Arthur tells me that… all the time," Merlin wheezed sardonically, slowly getting his breath back.

"Shut up," his captor snarled shaking his again, the pain returning with a vengeance, leaving his vision spotty at best.

"He tells me that, too," Merlin commented very much aware of the footsteps crashing after him and the bandit leader. "You know, if you play your cards right, you two could be the very best of friends."

With a growl, the bandit leader slugged Merlin in the side of the head, dazing the young warlock. His ears ringing, vision more black than spotty now (and wasn't that just great; he managed to get his sight back only to lose it again), he felt himself slowly getting dragged further and further away from his friends.

Or so he thought. Suddenly, the bandit stopped just as Merlin's hearing returned to him. He was very much aware of swords being drawn and a familiar voice saying, "I wouldn't go any further if I were you."

"I quite agree," another voice said, coming from his left. "You see, he's a friend of ours, and you appeared to have hurt him."

"And we just can't have that," a third, final voice stated, to Merlin's right.

Merlin felt himself hit the ground, pain shooting through his body, originating from his pounding head, very much aware of a struggle followed by a cry of pain and a heavy thud as something (or somebody) hit the ground. His hearing was going in and out, and he barely heard two new sets of footsteps quickly approaching before everything went dark.

**Merlin**

Arthur skidded to a halt, eyes widening at the sight of Percival and Elyan surrounding a clearly unconscious Merlin. A few feet away from them laid the bandit, blood pooling around him, clearly dead, with Leon standing over him, sword held tightly in his hand, scanning the forest for anymore possible threats.

"How did you find us?" Arthur asked curiously as Gwaine pushed past him, rushing to Merlin's side.

"Your horses turned up a few hours ago, so Gwen sent us out to find you," Elyan responded pushing himself to his feet, meeting Arthur's eyes. "We've been searching for you ever since."

"We found that _scum_ trying to take Merlin, so we were assuming you were close by," Percival stated sneering at the downed bandit.

"What happened to you three, sire?" Leon questioned sparing Arthur a quick glance before returning his gaze to his scouting.

"It's a long, long story," Arthur replied moving to kneel down next to Merlin. He checked his manservant over, finding a new bruise looming around his eye, spreading to his temple. "This is just not his day," he muttered lightly shaking the younger man's shoulder. "Merlin, wake up."

It took a few more shakes and a few more calls of his name to get Merlin coherent enough to get him to his feet. He swayed dangerously, back and forth, and Percival took pity on his, scooping the much smaller man up, into his arms.

"'m not a damsel," Merlin grumbled tiredly, but still burrowed his face into the gently giant's chest, much to the knights' and Arthur's amusement.

"Right now you are," Arthur deadpanned starting forward, "so shut up and accept it. And stay the hell awake."

"Bossy," Merlin murmured.

"Idiot."

"Prat."

"Dollophead."

"Hey," Merlin complained, his voice sounding more like a whine, "that's _my_ word."

"_Mer_lin, I am the king, I can use it anytime I want," Arthur retorted and they continued to half-heartedly bicker the rest of the way home.

**The End…**


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